ered that a man should be willing and ready to risk life and limb
in satisfying your lightest fancy?"

"Flattered?" she looked at me with much astonishment and some anger. I
was sure the look was genuine and not assumed.

"At all events the tiger's ears will always be a charming reminiscence,
a token of esteem that any one might be proud of."

"I am not proud of them in the least, though I shall always keep them as
a warning not to wish for such things. I hope that the next time Mr.
Isaacs is going to do a foolish thing you will have the common sense to
prevent him." She returned to her starting-point; but I saw no use in
prolonging the skirmish, and turned the talk upon other things. And soon
John Westonhaugh joined us, and found in me a sympathetic talker and
listener, as we both cared a great deal more for books than for tigers,
though not averse to a stray shot now and then.

In this kind of life the week passed, shooting to-day and staying in
camp to-morrow. We shifted our ground several times, working along the
borders of the forest and crashing through the jungle after tiger with
varying success. In the evenings, when not tired with the day's work, we
sat together, and Isaacs sang, and at last even prevailed upon Miss
Westonhaugh to let him accompany her with his guitar, in which he proved
very successful. They were constantly together, and Ghyrkins was heard
to say that Isaacs was "a very fine fellow, and it was a pity he wasn't
English," to which Kildare assented somewhat mournfully, allowing that
it was quite true. His chance was gone, and he knew it, and bore it like
a gentleman, though he still made use of every opportunity he had to
make himself acceptable to Miss Westonhaugh. The girl liked his manly
ways, and was always grateful for any little attention from him that
attracted her notice, but it was evident that all her interest ceased
there. She liked him in the same way she liked her brother, but rather
less, if anything. She hardly knew, for she had seen so little of John
since she was a small child. I suppose Isaacs must have talked to her
about me, for she treated me with a certain consideration, and often
referred questions to me, on which I thought she might as well have
consulted some one else. For my part, I served the lovers in every way I
could think of. I would have done anything for Isaacs then as now, and I
liked her for the honest good feeling she had shown about him,
especially in the m